


Delicato

by Saccharine_Ghosts



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Slightly established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccharine_Ghosts/pseuds/Saccharine_Ghosts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short back-and-forth drabble between Hannibal and Will about 'The Fall', and what they are to do after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicato

“Dear William, I do wish you would eat something.” 

Will turned to his companion in the seat adjacent to his own, so close he had a knee between his legs, and sighed. He took off his thin-rimmed sunglasses and placed them neatly beside his coffee cup. Will took a slow sip, still not meeting the eyes of his partner across from him. 

“My appetite’s been soiled for a while.” He finally brought his eyes up from the street outside, and grey irises met hazel. “Although, my gut feels full at the moment.”

“From satisfaction, or a weight of guilt?” 

“From vindication.” The scruffy man placed his mug back on the oak-wood table onto his coaster and adjusted his scarf around his neck, “I feel complete, yet oddly I don’t feel whole in this moment.” 

“You’ve done something unthinkable, Will.” Hannibal reached under the table to subtly rest a hand on his nervous companion’s leg. “It is normal to second guess a decision as big as this.” He brushed slender fingers across the inner side of his left knee, not just to comfort his dark-haired friend, but himself as well. 

“Unthinkable isn’t the word I would use.” Will reached under for the warm hand that burned against his own freezing appendage. “I’ve always had a hunch that things would turn out this way. You and I, I mean, running away from the ones who started us on this path.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across scarred, bony knuckles. 

The elder gave him a small smirk of amusement, “A hunch is one thing, but I was sure of this moment. Sure that you would come around to my plan eventually.” His voice was soft, and his accent somehow made it register softer in Will’s brain. Perhaps it had always comforted him, but how could the voice of someone who had mentally eviscerated him a number of times comfort him? 

Will gently, but suddenly, dropped the other man’s hand. “How could you have been so sure?” He squinted slightly at the larger man, and crossed his arms. “What if my trial had fallen through? I could’ve received the death penalty, Jack could’ve caught The Dragon, so many things could’ve gone wrong to foil your plans of a perfect world.” 

“There were many events that lead to this path. All of the forks in the road lead to the same destination.” He never broke eye contact with Will, even though Will did. “Even if The Dragon never existed, or you or I had never been to Dr. Chilton’s Playhouse, I was always confident that eventually your mind would clear. There were many things to clear your mind, Will, which one was the most evident to you?” 

Will leaned back into his high-backed chair as far as possible, almost as if to get a look at all of Hannibal. This man had broken him, pieced him back together, and broken him just as remorseless as the first time. This man had made him fragile, and stronger than ever. What happened to make him see this man in this light that he had never seen before? What veil had been lifted from his eyes, and who had lifted it? 

“A feeling of consolidation. When we fought Francis Dolarhyde, I saw you and I working together as a team. It felt like having a lion on a leash. You were in control, but for how long?” 

“Sometimes it takes a rush of adrenaline to make us see what is most important to us.” Hannibal took his first sip of his steaming black coffee, “Or in your case, maybe it was what was most important to you that gave you that rush of adrenaline.” Will leaned in again, “You said you were going to watch The Dragon kill me, but that isn’t how it worked out. Tell me, Will, who were you fighting for that night?”

“Are you saying I mother you?” 

“I’m saying you’re compassionate towards me, if anything.” 

“’My compassion for you is inconvenient,’ Hannibal.” Will mocked, a hint of amusement teasing on his lips. 

Suddenly, a waitress behind him dropped a plate of cups, porcelain shattering across the wooden floor of the coffee shop. She muttered to herself in Italian while she bent down to pick up the shards. Will was stoic throughout the ordeal, face never changing. He placed his right hand palm up back onto the table, whilst he gripped his coffee in his left.

“I’m proud of you, my love.” Hannibal interlaced their fingers again, but left their hands on top of the table. “When I first met you a clattering spoon could have sent you into a fit of hysterics.” 

“I’ve nothing to fear anymore, Hannibal.” He returned the grasp on his hand, “We haven’t talked about our plans from here on, where are we going?” 

Hannibal stared into Will’s hand, and tenderly ran a finger across it. His skin had been softened by not doing as strenuous work, but a few calluses still remained, as well as some of his tan from his life with Molly. 

Hannibal corrected himself, Will’s past life. 

He couldn’t return to that ever again, and although it was Hannibal’s fault, he didn’t feel guilty. 

“I wanted to see my home here in Italy one last time, but I know they will be here soon to find us.” He pulled out a wallet and left some money on the counter for the waitress, “Once we have finished business here, we can go wherever you’d like, my dear, I trust your judgment.” 

Will rubbed his hands onto his face, “Somewhere discreet, but large enough to support my dog problem.” He ran another hand through his hair to calm it somewhat. 

“I couldn’t live in the country, I’d do it for you, but I have several houses in the city without my legal name on the register. The closest is just outside Florence, if that suits you.” 

He stood up and offered Will a hand. The smaller man slipped on his glasses, adjusted his scarf, and took it to stand up. He placed a soft kiss on the corner of Hannibal’s mouth, and linked arms with him. 

“That sounds just fine.”


End file.
